Spark in the Stars

by Foster Bridget Cassidy

  Gin shook his head, but was glad the captain misunderstood his jerky motions. “Not difficult at all. It’s so interesting. Now that I’ve gotten over the shock, I’m eager to try to myself.”

  “Good. I figured you’d be able to get to this point eventually. You’re the type to adapt to your surroundings. You don’t let fear stop you.”

  Cheeks glowing with a pleased heat, Gin basked in the captain’s praise.

  “Are you ready to try?”

  Gin bit his lip. “Yes.”

  Lian nodded. Then he reached to a side table and pulled out a small radio. “We can use this. It’s old and doesn’t work. But maybe you can learn how to force your spark inside and power it.”

  With a sigh of relief, Gin accepted the radio. He hadn’t been sure what Lian intended him to practice on, and this was an easy, small piece of equipment. Manageable. Harmless.

  “I’ve never summoned my spark on purpose,” he confessed. “Anytime I could feel it lurking, I’d take the day off, not come back till it was long gone.”

  “How did you get it to go away?”

  “Usually my rubber bands.” Gin’s fingers went to the one holding back his right tail. “Rubber grounds electricity, and I’ve always known that’s what my spark was.”

  “Did you read the book on the Valkea?”

  “A bit. I haven’t had much time.”

  Lian nodded, accepting Gin had other responsibilities. “Did you see the part about anatomy?”

  Fighting a bout of nausea, Gin swallowed. “Yeah. The, uh, raikko is situated where a human appendix would be, but not connected to the digestive system.” His fingers unconsciously poked at his lower abdomen. It was in there, somewhere, and it made his hair stand up on end.

  “Correct. The raikko is a part of the nervous system. Valkea are humanesque in shape and size, as I’m sure you saw. So much of the anatomy is similar. That’s why you haven’t wondered about this before.” He shot Gin a questioning look.

  “Never once did I think my spark came from mixed blood. I thought I was just a freak.”

  Lian pinched his lips at the term, but didn’t call Gin down for it. “Are you ready to try?”

  “No time like the present.”

  Lian lifted one corner of his mouth, almost a smirk, then intoned, “Close your eyes.”

  Gin obeyed.

  “Tune out everything around you.”

  That was kind of hard with the captain’s even breathing reaching his ears. A soft inhale. A nasally exhale. In and out.

  “Focus on your spark.”

  Timidly, Gin searched inside himself, seeking the telltale signs of his spark. It dwelled in his raikko, but he’d never felt it there. When his spark discharged, it always came from his fingers. Electrical bladder or no, he focused on his fingertips.

  I know you’re there. I want to feel you.

  Lian breathed in and out.

  I want to understand you. I want you to understand me. Silly to think of it as something apart from him, when it was his own biology. Maybe something akin to anxiety. Always there, but forced into the background.

  Inhale. Exhale.

  Please. I don’t want to be afraid anymore.

  A small tremor shook his body—nothing physical, but he felt it in his nerves. Something inside him. Something electric.

  Please.

  The sensation increased. It was still tiny, so below his notice he wouldn’t have been able to feel it if he weren’t so intent on its presence.

  Grow bigger. Come out. I want to feel you.

  His bones vibrated. This was a feeling he knew well. This was his spark. This was the point when he’d flee the garage and lock himself in his room. Once it reached this stage, rubber bands didn’t help.

  The threads of electricity danced through his body, not just his fingers. It seemed as if his whole being radiated with energy. With the radio still grasped in his fingers, Gin shifted his focus.

  Go inside, he commanded. And it did.

  The radio jumped in his grip as a jolt of electricity surged into it. Gin’s eyes flew wide and he stared at the radio as it flared to life. The buttons lit up and a song emitted from its speakers. For no more than three seconds, the radio worked. Then, as Gin’s spark exceeded its strength, the lights and music cut off.

  Gin’s mouth was open in wonder. He’d done it. He’d called his spark on purpose.

  “Good job,” Lian said. His eyes, though, narrowed at the radio. A burning scent filled the air. The captain held out his hand and Gin gave him the more-broken radio.

  “Thanks, I think.”

  Lian reached beside the couch and lifted a fire extinguisher. He set the radio on the side table and blew a puff of foam at it, covering the radio completely.

  “Sorry,” Gin said.

  “I was prepared for this event. How did it feel?”

  Gin shrugged. “Like my spark. It was weird to track it through its phases, though. It’s always there. I never realized.”

  “You achieved it pretty quickly. I think that means we’re closer to getting it under control than initially thought.”

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  “Let’s meet again tomorrow, at this same time. We can try having you summon it and banish it.”

  “Good idea.”

  Gin fiddled with his hair tie, wondering if one day he’d be able to go without them.

  Lian looked at him, and Gin moved his fingers to tap on the arm of his chair.

  “You’re dismissed,” Lian said.

  Gin gave a start. “Oh. Yeah, I’m sure you’ve got a million things to do.”

  Lian raised his eyebrow. “Unless you have something else you need?”

  Gin stood. “No. No, I’m good. Thank you for your help, Captain.”

  He hustled out the door, out the corridor, and out of the minibridge.

  Chapter 17

  LIAN WATCHED Gin hurry from the room. The mechanic was odd. It’d been so long since Lian worked with someone outside the Order that Gin’s small-town quirks threw him off. They hadn’t been on the ship a week yet; he had to cut Gin more slack. It’d take the mechanic longer to grow accustomed to the etiquette the crew used.

  Glancing at the radio, Lian felt a surge of pride. At least they’d accomplished something. Going from this step to the next wouldn’t be much harder. They’d have this under control in two more sessions.

  “Captain?” Trish said from the call badge.

  Lian tapped it. “Go ahead.”

  “You’ve got a call from the Dalmin First.”

  Every muscle in his body tensed. “Patch it through to my room.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Lian surged to his feet and ran to the adjoining room. If he’d been out in the halls, he would have walked rather than give the appearance of fear. But alone in his room, he didn’t dare hesitate.

  They had a meeting scheduled in twelve hours. What was so important the First needed to call now?

  The convenience of wormhole travel really fucked with things like this. He’d missed two months of activities. So much could happen in that time frame. Before going through the hole, he’d been sure the First was satisfied with their arrangements. Perhaps he was no longer, and the race did look to start a war.

  He gave a start at seeing Trish seated in one of the side chairs.

  “What are you doing in here?”

  “I was on my way here to inquire about Gin when the call came through. Thought it best I listen in, too.”

  Lian nodded. He should have asked her here himself. Though the time with Gin had been brief, the mechanic’s quirky ways put Lian off-balance. Already he dwelled on Gin more than he should.

  At the com station, he hit the flashing green button and First Capillto’s face came on the screen.

  “Captain,” the First greeted in Dalmin. “Forgive my unscheduled call. I received word you’d emerged from the wormhole and thought it best we talk sooner rather than later.”

  “Of course, First,” Lia
n replied formally, also in Dalmin. Lian’s accent was slightly softer than the First’s, who had a tendency to clip off his vowels. “I was informed of some distressing news. Would this call have anything to do with that?”

  “Yes, which was why I hastened to speak to you. I’m sure your Federation has already jumped to the conclusion that the Dalmin were behind the attack on your colony ship.”

  “First, I—”

  The Dalmin raised his huge, ten-fingered hand, calling for silence. “Your assumptions are correct, Captain.”

  Lian swallowed, the taste of bile strong in his throat. “You’ve reevaluated our negotiations?”

  “I have not, Captain. That’s what is so important. Two of my beshwa are in rebellion. The Alphas of the Gorsho and Velloro beshwa have left the council. We are on the brink of civil war.”

  “What caused the falling out, First?”

  “This potential treaty with the human race. They think to enter into a compact with you belittles us. They do not understand the need for it.”

  “As the First within the council, can’t you make them see it your way?” Lian’s studies of the culture and their mental capacities suggested the First had influence over the whole species’ way of thinking. A sort of mostly dormant telepathy.

  “You do not understand, Captain. An Alpha may be able to influence those under them. The members of their beshwa. I am from the Pachilanto beshwa. I could sway my own members, but none of the Gorsho or Velloro would be affected. Since their Alphas have abandoned our pact, there is little I can do.”

  “I do understand. Your culture is based on following the rules of your superiors without question. But if that is the case, why even bother with your council at all? Why try for a unified race?”

  “We are…. What is the word?” The First rubbed his many fingers together as he thought. “Evolving,” he said in Federation Standard. “You see? We do not have a word for it.”

  “Evolving?” Lian repeated.

  The First switched back to Dalmin. “Yes. Growing. Adapting. We need to interact with others peacefully, or else we will be wiped out. In the earlier days of exploration, our conquer and kill method sustained us. The star systems are no longer hospitable for beings who think that way. We need to keep up with the changes, or else we will be annihilated ourselves.

  “However, the two rebelling beshwa think we can master the whole galaxy. They overestimate our size and prowess.”

  “You and the remaining council still wish to negotiate the treaty?”

  “We do, Captain.”

  Lian nodded. “I will need to relay this information to Admiral Alejaro. She may not be too keen to sign a treaty since it would not include your whole population. If our ship was attacked by a Dalmin force, Federation may not recognize it as a rebel beshwa.”

  “And what of these renegade pirates from your world? Does the Federation void all agreements with others when these members of Rigel attack without permission? Or are you implying they all act on the will of the Federation?”

  “I’m saying Rigel is a group of terrorists that have abandoned humanity’s ways. However, that is not the same as two whole beshwa revolting. That’s the difference of a couple hundred humans versus a couple thousand Dalmin.”

  “Then perhaps we will stop calling the Gorsho and Velloro Dalmin. They are also going against our ways.”

  “I will convey this to the Admiral. Shall we keep our scheduled meeting for tomorrow to speak further?”

  “Yes, Captain. I thank you for accepting my call and listening to my explanation. The council and I are still eager for our treaty.”

  “I thank you for your candor, First. Until tomorrow.” Lian saluted, and the screen went black.

  Trish stood from where she’d been sitting, out of the way of the First’s line of sight. She walked up to Lian, a frown on her lips. “You believe him?”

  “I want to, Trish. But I also think his words were too convincing. I’ll call Admiral Alejaro and see what she thinks.” Lian walked to her abandoned chair and sank down.

  Trish raised her eyebrow. “How’d it go with Gin?”

  Lian rubbed a hand on his forehead. Too many things to think about. “Gin? Oh, pretty good. I think we can get him confident in his abilities before long.”

  She went to the other chair and sat too. “That’s good news. It’s kind of lucky we snatched him up, huh? To think he’d still be unaware if we left him in Tallahassee.”

  Dipping his head, Lian said, “I’m sure this is part of Pip’s plan. Either we need Gin, or he needs us.”

  Trish grinned. “Perhaps you need each other.”

  He didn’t care for her tone, reminiscent of Mother when she thought she was being funny. “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, Lian, it’s so obvious. Gin’s got feelings for you.”

  “No he doesn’t. He’s just weird because he grew up without civilization.”

  With a snort, Trish shook her head. “Because he grew up without civilization, he never learned to hide his feelings. He shows them pretty clearly.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Why do you think Doc insisted you teach him? Any of the chaplains could have helped him with meditation. Even Curtis could have assisted because he’s the one who guides the yoga class. But Doc can tell Gin’s infatuated with you and this is her idea of a joke.”

  Lian growled. It was something Mother would do. Get the poor guy’s hopes up.

  “The funny thing is,” Trish added casually, “you were pretty quick to agree.”

  “What are you implying?”

  She tilted her head to the side and a slow smile spread across her lips. “Shall I spell it out?”

  “Trish, I do not want to have this conversation again.”

  “Just because you’re the captain doesn’t mean you can’t form bonds with the crewmembers.”

  “Federation guidelines state—”

  “I don’t care what they say. You’re still part human, and you have emotions.”

  “—That any fraternizing between officers and other crewmembers can result in consequences, including being relieved of duty.”

  She glared at him. “You do realize your lieutenant was married to the last Class Three Mechanic? Admiral Alejaro was a guest at the wedding.”

  “I’m the captain, Trish.”

  “Yes you are, and you’re going to drive yourself crazy if you keep yourself separate from the others.”

  “There are certain barriers that need to be kept in place. If I’m friends with them, they won’t be able to adequately follow orders.”

  “I follow them just fine.”

  “Sure you do.” He rolled his eyes. “If you’re what my crew would turn into, then I’d rather remain mute, deaf, and celibate.”

  “Lian. He’s sweet. And authentic. Those are the kinds of people you like.”

  He scoffed. “I don’t even remember the kinds of people I like, I’m surprised you do.”

  “This is my point. It’s okay to admit you’re interested in him.”

  “No, Trish. I’m not looking for romance.”

  She shook her head. “I never said anything about romance.”

  Blinking a few times in confusion, he regarded her sternly. “So you want me to fuck him? Have a quick fling with him, then send him on his way? He’s probably a virgin. He’s probably never even kissed someone.”

  “I’m not saying that either. I’m saying don’t be afraid to let things evolve at their natural pace. Keeping people at arm’s length isn’t healthy. It doesn’t have to be sexual. It doesn’t have to be romantic. But there’s the potential for some sort of relationship to grow. You said it yourself. He’s here for a reason.”

  “I can’t believe we’re actually having this conversation. I do have a ship to maintain, treaties to negotiate, and Admirals to call. Are you going to stay while I call Alejaro? Or do you need to get back to the bridge?”

  She sighed. “I’ll stay. As long as you’re quick.”


  Chapter 18

  NOW ON this side of the wormhole, they had a ten-day trek to Feiwei—the Galactic Coalition’s base within the Adora Star System. Lian trusted the claimed neutrality of the planet to a certain extent—which meant he wouldn’t get the Bethany closer than the artificial planet’s equally artificial moon. In all his face-to-face negotiations, he had piloted one of the pods to the meeting rather than risking his ship and crew.

  Worrying about that now made no sense. It was the anticipation of waiting for the Dalmin’s call that had him already on edge. The scheduled meeting should have taken place three hours ago, but the Dalmin were oddly silent.

  Admiral Alejaro hadn’t been pleased with Lian’s news of rebel Dalmin potentially putting an end to negotiations. He wouldn’t be surprised if she summoned him back home rather than deal with such an explosive situation. He’d follow her orders, but he hated the idea of investing all this time for nothing.

  A knock on his door pulled his eyes away from the console screen—not that there was anything displayed there to hold his interest. He walked to the door and opened it, revealing Gin, once again in a grease-stained uniform.

  “It’s soup,” the mechanic said as he stepped into Lian’s quarters. “Angie hit my elbow and knocked over the whole bowl.”

  “You have my permission to go change.”

  Gin waved a hand and glanced around the room. “I’m going to sleep after this, so it didn’t make sense to get a new outfit.” He paused and studied Lian. “Unless this bothers you?”

  It did, a little, but Lian shook his head. “It’s fine. You’re right on time, but I’m still waiting for a communication from the Dalmin. We can begin our session, but I may have to leave in the middle.”

  “Sure.”

  Lian and Gin went into the study and took the same seats they had the day before.

  “I finished the book,” Gin said. “Do you mind if I hang on to it a little longer? I want to reread a few parts.”

  “That’s not a problem. You have more of a need for it than I do.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Has your spark been active since we last met?”